


short skirt, long jacket

by kinkymartim



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Love Confessions, Autistic Martin Blackwood, Degradation, Exhibitionism, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Martin Blackwood, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bratty martin blackwood, everyone just wants to fuck martin, of the flavour: fucking in document storage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkymartim/pseuds/kinkymartim
Summary: martin wears a new skirt. thats it thats the fic
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115





	short skirt, long jacket

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed pwp :smirk_cat:  
> martin uses the words cock and cunt for his downstairs, and his chest isnt mentioned!! he does get fucked in the front, though, so if thats upsetting to you please skip this one !! <3

martin has no idea of how sexy he is, and it's murdering tim. 

he's always wearing something cute, cottagecore, and flouncy, and today is no exception. today he's wearing a fluffy pink jumper with one of the shortest skirts tim has ever seen. it's layered with petticoats, obviously- wouldn't be a martin outfit if he couldn't stim with it some way or another- and even from tim's imperfect view from his desk he can see miles and miles of freckled thigh, covered by the sheerest of tights. he's fucking gorgeous, and tim can't stop thinking about shoving his face between those gorgeous thighs. and judging by everyone else's behaviours, their train of thought is abooooout the same. 

the atmosphere at work has been... tense, to say the least. sasha snapped a pencil when martin bent over. jon disappeared somewhere around lunchtime to the bathroom, and came back visibly more disheveled and sweaty. tim's spent the entire day various levels of erect, mind completely on fantasies of railing martin within an inch of his life.

and martin- martin hasn't got the faintest idea, sitting there demure and soft with his mouth- his mouth- chewing slightly on his pen lid. 

martin and tim have fucked before; tim finding him gorgeous is not new- he'd have to be stupid as hell to think otherwise, with his fluffy hair and his soft, warm presence. he's also in love with him, embarrassingly enough, but he'd rather shelve those feelings than get into them. 

the more pressing issue is that tim's straining in his briefs, and he's pretty sure it's not going to go away anytime soon. he's also pretty sure if he doesn't make a move on martin soon, jon'll do it first, and that's definitely not happening. there's a sort of competitiveness between the both of them, nowardays, with the knowledge that they're both in love with martin, and tim's never been one to lose. 

as hard as it is not to simply bend martin over and fuck him over his desk, tim's preeeetty sure the rest of the institute wouldn't appreciate that kind of display, and tim's never been one to share. so he waits politely, taking slow, steady pulls through the pocket of his jeans and biting his lip as not to make a noise, until martin finally, finally leaves to grab domething from document storage, and tim follows him out as surreptitiously as possible. sasha gives him an exaggerated wink, so it's probable he wasn't as subtle as he'd intended.

martin's got a great ass, tim would like to note. would be much better were his hands on it, but lovely nonetheless. "hey-" he says, voice husky, and martin turns around, lighting up at the sight of his best friend. 

"hey!" he says, soft and adorable as usual, and tim's never been more set on wanting to utterly ruin him. martin lets out a little 'oh!' of surprise as tim backs him up against the wall, pinning his wrist against it. martin's strong, if he was uncomfortable he'd easily be able to tap out, plus tim's not holding it particularly hard. he knows his safeword, and tim's willing to stop at any time if it gets too much for him.

"martin, do you have any goddamn idea how fucking hot you are?" he asks, taking deep satisfaction in the crimson that creeps across martin's face, and absentmindedly wondering how far that blush carries down. 

"'m assuming you like the skirt, then-" martin says cheekily, giving it a little flourish, and tim inhales sharply. of course he was doing that on purpose, nobody bends over to grab a pencil that many times in one day. god, tim's going to ruin him.

"you have," tim started, voice low and gravelly, "no fucking idea what you've been doing to me all day." he punctuates this with a grasp of martin's waist, pushing him flush against his hardon with ease, and martin gasps, grinding against the contact. "thought i was going to shoot in my pants just from looking at you, _jesus_ martin-" he cuts himself off by kissing martin filthily, the man moaning ever so sweetly into his mouth.

"yeah, tim- that was the point-" martin says, rolling his eyes. brat. he wraps his legs around tims waist as best he can from this position, rolling his hips with the urgency of a man who'd been waiting to get fucked all day. 

"oh, fuck you-"

"i'm trying!" he laughs at him, then abruptly gets cut off by tim picking him up easily and dropping him down on a table, hands on his thighs. "oh."

"this okay?" tim mutters into the shell of martin's ear, and only continues when he gets a choked-out yes in response. "perfect." he inches his fingers up and up his skirt, until he can brush the tips of his fingers against martin's tdick through the fabric. it's big enough to jerk with two fingers, which tim's done many a time. he'd do it now, if it weren't for the tights- hm.

with a startlingly loud tear, he rips open the crotch of martin's tights, already pushing aside the fabric of his- christ, his lace lingerie- to dip his fingers in martin's wetness, moving up to rub at his dick. jesus, he's so wet- it's adorable. "could've just asked me to pull them down-" martin grumbles, before his voice cracks into a desperate whimper. "haah- fuck, tim-" 

"i'm trying!" tim mimics him jokily, rubbing him harder. martin's whines and moans are so cute, his soft thighs tight around tim's waist. he's so tempted to suck him off, but they've gotta be quick- getting caught would be awkward as all hell. as is, he's easing up on his cock to slip a finger into his cunt, martin clenching down and whining softly in response. 

"you're so lovely like this, baby-" tim murmurs, eyes locked on his best friend's as he scissors two fingers deep in his cunt. "so adorable, legs spread for me like such a cute little whore. bet you'd let anyone here fuck you when you're in this state, wouldn't you- i'm lucky i was the first one to start somethin', you'd take it from fucking anyone-" he's so hard it's almost painful, the visual of his martin falling apart under his touch practically too much to bear. 

martin _mewls,_ his desperation evident. "haah- please, please fuck me, tim-" martin says, in one breath. he's fucking himself on tim's fingers with vigor, visibly close. tim pins down his hips with one hand, stopping him from moving to get himself off faster- leaving his pleasure entirely at tim's whim.

"i dunno about that, marto- gimme some incentive here... whose are you?" tim says, his voice half-joking but gravelly and low, grabbing martin's hair with his free hand just hard enough for it to tilt his head up. 

_"yours-_ please, i'm yours, just fuck me-" he whines out, whole body tensed up like a coiled wire. that's the ticket. tim can't edge himself like this any longer, and he fishes his painfully hard dick from his pants to the relief of them both.

"hell yeah you are, marto-" he hums, lining his cock up against martin's soaked cunt. hands tight on the man's hips, he pushes in slowly, steadily, as martin shakes and falls to pieces around him. god- martin's so lovely, so beautifully wrecked.

martin's _tight_ , and it's not long till tim's moaning and muttering out blissed-out compliments and adoration to him as he thrusts. hips against martin's thighs every time he bottoms out, there's a desperation to him now, pressing fingers to martin's dick as he clenches around him. 

"fuck- fuck, i love you-" tim stutters out in a rush, too close to grasp the gravity of what he's said.

martin stares at him, wide-eyed, and he clenches and spasms on his cock as he comes. he whines out tim's name between pressed-together lips, and it's all too much. tim gives one last thrust, hitting that spot inside martin that makes him positively scream, before coming himself, grabbing tight enough onto martin's hips to leave bruises as he releases deep inside him. 

they just breathe, for a moment, tim watching martin's chest rising and falling softly as he pulls out carefully. he's a picture, tim's come dripping down his thigh and his eyeliner running. _fuck,_ tim loves him- ah. on that point, tim's not sure whether to apologise, or to play it off casually- or to pretend he hadn't said anything at all. he rubs soft circles into martin's thigh with his thumb as he thinks, very much at a loss. the last thing he wants is to fuck over the lovely thing he has going with martin right now, but he doesn't want to lie to him- mff. 

martin leans up to kiss him softly, brow furrowed a tad. "you okay, tim?" he squeezes his hand softly. "wanna get back to work?" 

tim beams at him, stroking his cheek. "i'm good, yeah- that sounds good. wanna come back to mine after work?" later, he decides. later, when they aren't both hazy with post-orgasm bliss and with the looming presence of their coworkers back in the archives. later they can talk, and tim can- well, he can confess, he supposes. throw all his cards down and hope for the best. hope that it won't. damage their dynamic, at the very least? that martin'll reciprocate, at the very best. 

"that sounds great." 


End file.
